


my reflection troubles me

by AwayLaughing



Series: lines of descent [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Depression, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen, Off-screen Relationship(s), Parent-Child Relationship, brief cameo from Hiashi but he speaks so he's in the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: Hyuuga Hizashi has made mistakes. He will make more mistakes, but he's trying.He's trying.





	my reflection troubles me

“What did that accomplish, Hizashi?”

 

Hiashi's voice was his own, in many ways, the same familiar tones, and after years of teaching, the same way of enunciating and elucidation. If it had not always been this way, Hizashi mused, he might have found it odd.

 

“You've upset your son. He's inconsolable.”

 

“I'm sure your daughter is no better.”

 

His brother sighed at that, and Hizashi looked up to see his oh so implacable clan head sit, slowly as if he was in pain.

 

“This will be a fact of her life, as my heir,” Hiashi said, not looking at Hizashi. “It hardly has to be a fact of Neji's.”

 

“Of course, so long as he is a good little slave.”

 

“You're not a slave Hizashi.”

 

“Of course not, Hiashi-sama.”

 

* * *

 

 

At some point he fell asleep, and when he woke, Neji was curled into his side. Recalling Hiashi's words, Hizashi tried to check in on his son, only for the boy – who was more stubborn than Ryōko herself – to just cling harder, tiny face pressed into Hizashi's shoulder. At a loss, he just stroked the boy's hair, feeling the familiar silky strands and noting someone must have given him a bath. Briefly, the image of Hiashi doing so struck him, and Hizashi bit back a snort.

 

Ume, maybe, though she likely wasn't feeling well disposed toward Hizashi after his outburst. She loved Neji dearly, or had, once upon a time when they'd interacted more. Most likely Yūtaro had dropped by, as he was wont to do.

 

“I'm sorry, Neji,” he told the sleeping boy, “I don't know where my head was.”

 

Neji didn't answer, too far gone into little boy sleep, and Hizashi wished dearly he could replicate the feat. It felt like so long since he'd slept enough.

 

* * *

 

 

When next he woke, Neji was gone, and a brief scan revealed he was seated at the kitchen table, armed with a book, little legs swinging. Hizashi watched him, for a few minutes, before forcing back the covers. Mind foggy, he quickly dressed in some relatively clean clothing. Then he forced himself to at least wash his face, brush his teeth and plait his somewhat greasy hair. By the time he was done Neji was no longer at the table, though the books were still there. Outside, the sun was struggling over the horizon, throwing long shadows.

 

That was where he found Neji; watching the sunrise with rapt attention. Hizashi did not entirely understand his son, sometimes, but he loved him dearly and thought Neji's little oddities were charming. Besides, being able to appreciate the sunset so young just gave him more time to do so, certainly adulthood tend to be a tad busy for that. In a few years, he suspected, if Neji was up and at it this early he'd be running kata or some other training. The sun would become nothing more than a way to gouge the time.

 

“Morning tōsan,” his son said, twisting around. “I tried to be quiet.”

 

“You were quiet as a mouse,” Hizashi said seriously, crossing his arms and leaning against the house.

 

“Mouses squeak,” Neji said, standing and coming up to him. “I wanna be as quiet as a shinobi!”

 

“Mice, not mouses,” Hizashi corrected gently, tousling longish strands. “And that takes lots of training, you know.”

 

Neji nodded. “I’m gonna train every day,” he said. “And then I’ll be quiet and strong and you can sleep and I can do missions so you won’t be tired anymore.” He looked very serious, eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Being tired means people make mistakes.”

 

A heart couldn’t actually break, and if they could his would have shattered when Ryōko died. Still, his body made an admirable attempt at simulating the effect, his chest tightening, heart beat suddenly sounding loudly in his ears. He curled one hand around Neji’s head, pulling him in gently. Neji went willingly, little arms wrapping around him. “I’m so sorry Neji,” he said. His voice sounded rough even to his own ears, and he bit back a bitter laugh when Neji responded by pulling away, rubbing one arm in much the way Hizashi did for him.

 

“It’s okay, tōsan,” he said. “You don’t have to be sad.”

 

It was not okay. It was very far from okay but he couldn’t say that to Neji. He’d done so once, a few months past and Neji had been near inconsolable for the remainder of the night. It still stung, a little, to think he was so self involved he couldn’t tell when something was about Neji as well as himself.

 

Ryōko would have known.

 

At a loss, he just pulled Neji into another hug. Neji responded by squirreling up into his arms. “You’re getting a bit big for this,” he said, readjusting his grip.

 

“I know,” Neji said, resting his head on his shoulder. “I don’t really like it too much anyway. But just for a little, okay?”

 

Hizashi relented, resting his own head on top of Neji’s. The sun was more or less up now, but the trees were tall enough they acted as an excuse to stay there and watch a little longer. Finally Neji sat up as best he could, putting his most authoritative face on. It looked a bit like Ume’s – which had Hizashi fighting a smile.

 

“We need breakfast,” he said.

 

Hizashi hummed. He wasn’t very hungry himself, but Neji was already showing signs of what was likely going to be a voracious appetite when he was older. His picky toddler phase had been remarkably short. “And what are you thinking – breakfast miso?”

 

Neji considered. “Pancakes with fruit,” he said.

 

Hizashi paused to take stock of his kitchen at the moment – and then shook his head. “Not enough protein,” he said. “Natto omlette with fruit salad on the side.”

 

Neji knew better than to argue, so just nodded and then bounced slightly, signifying that he wanted down.

 

“Can we put naketaka on it?” he asked. Hizashi nodded.

 

“I think I’ll have to make more, after this though,” he said, trying to recall how much they had left.

 

“Um,” Neji said. Hizashi arched an eyebrow. “Okay.”

 

“Okay? What’s wrong with my naketaka?” he asked. Neji pursed his lips.

 

“I need to clean up my books,” he said seriously, and quickly dashed into the house. Hizashi huffed a laugh and followed him.

 

* * *

 

 

Breakfast was quiet – Neji was happy to mix the salad while everything else was cooking. As they ate they did not speak much. Hizashi was more focused on swallowing everything and Neji had his thinking face on.

 

“Tōsan,” he said after eating about half his omlette. “I need to go to school today.”

 

Hizashi frowned, realizing he had no clue what day it was. Had he slept just the evening – or all day and night? “Of course,” he said. “Did you not go yesterday?”

 

He’d...erred on Saturday evening so the answer should be _there was no school, tōsan._ Instead Neji paused long enough to implicate himself. He was getting a little less transparent day by day – not so long ago his guilt would have been even more obvious. “Neji-chan,” he said firmly, “you cannot miss class.”

 

“I had to take care of you, tōsan,” Neji said, eyes wide and completely guileless. “You wouldn’t wake up.”

 

Neji was not a manipulative child, really. He could gauge when Hizashi was willing to be convinced, but otherwise he was honest. That didn’t mean he didn’t know how to land a hit though. It hurt – and before he knew it he was responding, voice raised to a level just below a yell. “I am not an excuse for you to shirk your duties. You are responsible for your own actions now Neji and that means attending your classes, doing your training and completing your homework.”

 

For a moment there was silence. Neji looked at him with wide eyed hurt, before his gaze dipped. When he looked back up he was the model little Hyūga.

 

“I am sorry otōsama,” he said, leaving his seat and bowing. “I’ll go get dressed.” He disappeared rather quickly, most his food untouched. Hizashi stared at it a moment before deciding it worked as well as anything for a lunch. He could pack some of the leftover curry as well, since Neji would be hungry.

 

At several points he considered going to Neji’s room to apologize – but he found himself frozen at the counter. Eventually Neji came back, edging past him to take the bento. He still avoided Hizashi’s eyes, and just bowed once before scurrying out the door.

 

His classes didn’t start for another hour.

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually he forced himself to actually clean up and go looking for something to do. Internal work was harder to come by when you were a field agent and wanted more than D-ranks, but over the years since Ryōko’s death Hizashi had cultivated a network. Mostly it meant getting assigned to visiting dignitaries, occasionally it meant getting roped into work with Intel or T&I. He’d once gotten the thrilling job of guarding a prisoner who needed to stay at the hospital – you wouldn’t think a man recovering from severe sepsis would have the energy for three escape attempts. Three very shoddy escape attempts.

 

Today the Mission’s Desk did not have any and he sighed, eyeing the sheet that showed gaps in Wall duty. There were usually shifts to pick up there, but that had been most of his last two week’s work, not to mention his own shifts.

 

“Flu season,” the bored looking jōnin manning the Desk right now said. Something Mie, he vaguely recalled. “You don’t take anything longer than a week, right?”

 

“Correct,” he said. She nodded with sympathy.

 

“It’ll be easier when he’s older. At least you’ve got the clan to fall back on,” she said. Hizashi bit his tongue. “I’ve got a four day A-rank.” He held his hand out for the scroll. “Zaizen Teruo’s son is getting married, but someone’s been sending the bride to be death threats.”

 

It did not take long to figure out why. “An Earth-bred bride would do the trick,” he said. The war was very fresh, particularly up north. It was good for the uneasy alliance they had right now, but the populace no doubt mostly saw it as a betrayal. How many villages, even now almost six years past, were still being rebuilt? How many stood empty and rotting?

 

This mission was to go north to the border, meet the bride – Isshiki Sumiko – and keep her safe until the ceremony was complete.

 

“It’s a good mission for a clan boy,” the jōnin added. “Since you’ll be playing retainer.”

 

That was true. “I’ll need to henge,” he said.

 

“You’re taking it?”

 

“Yes.” He said. He’d need to pack – he would be leaving after lunch.

 

* * *

 

 

Leaving half way through the day meant he had to stop by Neji’s classroom to beg his teacher to arrange something.

 

“I will take him for the evening,” he said. “I can arrange something with Sayo for the other days.”

 

“My thanks, Hisao-san,” he said. He could just see Neji on the other side of the door, diligently working. Hizashi dithered a moment. “Do you mind if I-”

 

“Not at all,” Hisao said. “Neji-chan, your father is here.”

 

Neji was up like a rocket – giving away the fact he’d been trying to listen in. Hisao gave an amused huff, and re-entered the classroom, telling the other four students there _focus, please_. Neji came in front of him, carefully studying his toes – until he registered the way Hizashi was dressed and looked up, anxiety clear on his face.

 

“Are you going away?” he asked.

 

“For four days,” he said. Neji’s lower lip wobbled ever so slightly.

 

“Because you’re mad at me?” he asked, voice tiny.

 

Hizashi dropped to one knee. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry I yelled this morning, Neji-chan. I shouldn’t have.”

 

“Skipping class is bad,” Neji said, a hint of challenge in his voice as he crossed his arms. Only his son, Hizashi thought a bit wryly, would insist on being in trouble.

 

“Yes, but yelling was wrong anyway. I’m going away because we need the money, is all.” Neji nodded, but did not look convinced. Hizashi sighed and pressed a kiss to his bandaged forehead. “Remember, four days. Be good.”

 

“Yes tōsan,” he said. “Come back please.”

 

Hizashi just gave him another kiss. “Back to class, now,” he said. He stayed there until Neji closed the door behind him. Only then did he stand.

 

* * *

 

 

Hizashi let out a sigh as he packed, feeling as if he’d been holding it in the last two days. Sumiko was officially ensconced in the safety of her husband’s house, which meant he was done and could go home. The scroll signed by lord Zaizen confirmed his mission was complete – meaning he was free to leave whenever. He considered. Outside it was dark, but he could get about four hours travel in before he settled down for a few hours. That would probably get him home before noon.

 

Four hours was not going to be much of a difference really. More hours of sleep might.

 

That meant going back to the party, though, as retiring at 8PM was a little much. Which meant reapplying his henge and making nice with the guests for another hour or so. A knock on the door interrupted his thinking, and he paused only long enough to see who it was and if they were armed.

 

It was Sumiko’s maid, Chigusa. Armed to the teeth – tessen, weaponized kazashi and a ring that was likely loaded with contact poison. Reapplying the henge, he opened the door.

 

“Chigusa-san,” he said, “to what do I owe the pleasure.”

 

She looked up at him, dark eyes lined in black and red. She looked past him and arched one well groomed brow. “Leaving us so soon, shinobi-san?”

 

“Just catching my breath, Chigusa-san,” he said. “Is there something that needs my attention?”

 

She laughed, and planted a hand in the middle of his chest. “Really shinobi-san, the jig is up. The only mystery is why you feel the need to wear a henge,” a finger started to trail up the centre of his chest. “Konoha isn’t known for particularly ugly agents.” Hizashi didn’t blink, just continued to stare her down. She huffed. “My real name is Rishi, of the Rusu clan.”

 

Samurai, then. The Rusu clan had eked out a continued existence on the far north-west coast, the only extant samurai clan that still operated out of a village bearing country.

 

“A pleasure, Rishi-san,” he said, “But I’m not interested.”

 

“Then why is my hand still on you?” she asked. “You can turn the lights off, I’ll never know what you’re hiding.”

 

It had been a very long time. Since before Ryōko died – things had been busy in the month leading up to her death and inquisitive little boys weren’t always best for one’s love life. That was the only reason he let her hand slide up and around his neck. The only reason he let her step into the room.

 

“If you pull a weapon on me, I’ll introduce you to life with just one functioning lung,” he said. She laughed – a low scratchy sound.

 

“I’m about to spend the rest of my life surrounded by soft nobles and self important guards,” she said. “You are my last taste of home, even if you’re no samurai.”

 

* * *

 

 

The rain from the storm that had been following him since he left Iama started to fall into Konoha as he left the Hokage’s office. It was the sort that got trapped in the mountains, and instead of fizzling out, collided with others until they created something larger and fiercer than even the mountains could contain. Its winds had pushed him along, right to Konoha’s gates, and now left his hair in his face. Going home meant walking back into it, but he did not pause.

 

The clan lands were empty – he could feel people inside but everyone who didn’t need to be outside wasn’t. In his own home were two chakra signatures – Neji’s and an untamed, fuzzy one that was Sayo. It was a surprising balm on his nerves – reminding him once again that he actually did dislike being away from his son. It seemed he did it so rarely, that between missions he forgot that fact.

 

Opening the genkan let out a rush of heat and in doing so confirmed it was certainly Sayo who was heating the place. She got cold easily, and hated it, and so whenever there was even the faintest chill in the air she was bundled up and had every room as warm as possible.

 

“Hizashi-san?” she called – a moment later her head popped around the corner. “You’re wet!”

 

“It’s raining,” he said. “Storm, in from Iama.”

 

“Oh dear,” she said, peering out past him. “Is it bad?”

 

“Windy,” he said. “You’re free to leave, before it gets worse.”

 

“I was about to help Neji-chan in the bath,” she said. “And I was starting supper.”

 

“I can handle those,” he said, shucking off his wet outer clothing. Sayo’s eyes widened rather suddenly, and he paused, confused before realizing she was looking at his neck. “Sayo-san I-”

 

“No no, sorry,” she said. “It’s not my business,” she smiled at him. “How about you deal with Neji-chan, and I’ll finish supper.”

 

“Deal,” he said. Exhaustion was creeping up on him now that he’d held still for more than two minutes. All he wanted himself was a hot bath, a warm meal and his bed.

 

And his son.

 

“Have there been any problems?” he asked.

 

Sayo forwned. “He’s been hesitant to go to bed,” she said. “Nightmares, I think.”

 

Hizashi frowned. Neji was a light sleeper, yes, but he was usually about as good about bedtime as you could expect from a four year old.

 

“Alright,” he said.

 

Sayo just nodded and promptly disappeared again, and he went about the overly laborious task of making his way to his room to put away his weapons. It was tempting to just leave them near the front door, but that was bad form on several levels so they went into his weapon’s box, and his vest went onto the hook on the back of the door. His bed sat there, taunting him but he couldn’t justify going to bed when he smelled like sweat and rainwater.

 

“Sayo-san?” he heard Neji call.

 

“Neji-chan,” he said, exciting his room. Neji jumped, eyes going wide when he turned around.

 

“Tōsan!”

 

The impact of Neji’s little body colliding with his pushed a laugh out of his chest. He scooped the boy up, cuddling him close.

 

“I missed you,” Neji said, face buried in his neck. “I did all my homework.”

 

Hizashi pressed a kiss to his hair. “Of course you did, you’re a good boy Neji-chan. Now, do you want to help tōsan take a bath?”

 

“Okay tōsan,” Neji said, wriggling back down. “I need one too.”

 

“Oh do you?” Hizashi asked – Neji was dressed in a simple yukata and holding a towel.

 

“Mhm,” Neji said. “Come on, Sayo-san is making food – she made me bento!”

 

Hizashi carefully kept from laughing. “That was awfully nice of her,” he said. Neji nodded.

 

“It was. Are you staying home for a while?”

 

“Of course,” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

Hizashi jerked awake and for a moment couldn’t pin point why – then he realized Neji was sitting on the floor near his head. He was speaking, very quietly and it took a moment for Hizashi’s sleep fogged mind to clear enough to understand it.

 

“-and be good, so you don’t have to away anymore,” Neji was saying. “And I’ll get a new sparring teacher so you don’t have to see Hiashi-jisama anymore or Hinata-sama and you won’t forget to and be hurt again. And I’ll learn how to cook without the stove.”

 

“Neji-chan-”

 

Neji squeaked.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Neji was silent a long moment.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Neji said.

 

Hizashi sat up, peering into the dark. Neji was turned to the door, curled up and miserable looking. “Nightmares?” he said, recalling Sayo’s words. Neji hadn’t made any fuss about bed and it had completely left Hizashi’s mind.

 

Neji was silent for a moment. “You went away and didn’t come back.” Neji said, speaking into his knees. “Hiashi-jisama said it was because I was bad.”

 

Hizashi did not hesitate to reach out and pull Neji onto the bed, even though Neji made a startled little sound in response. Then he cuddle back into Hizashi.

 

“Do you still think I took the mission because I was mad at you?” Hizashi asked, speaking mostly into Neji’s hair. Neji’s silence was telling. “Even though I said otherwise?”

 

“Sometimes adults say not-true things because they think it’s better,” Neji said.

 

That...there was more to that than Hizashi was prepared to discuss with a four year old when both of them were supposed to be in bed. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Is that what you think I did?”

 

“You said you weren’t mad and you were,” Neji said.

 

“I said I wasn’t mad at you,” he said. “I was mad at me.”

 

Neji was silent for a moment, Hizashi tilted him back bodily, and could see that Neji was thinking. His eyelids fluttered, indicating he was looking up at him, despite his back being against Hizashi’s chest. “Why were you mad at you?” he asked finally.

 

“I...” the answer caught in his throat. Admitting a single weakness was anathema – admitting he was a weak man in general was impossible. Even in the dark of his room, where the only person who could hear was the little boy who loved him like flowers loved the sun.

 

“...is it because you’re sick?”

 

Again Hizashi thought it was far too late for this – and too early. He was prepared to have this conversation at the heat death of the universe and not a moment before. “Who told you that?”

 

“Hisao-sensei,” he said. “And Yūtaro-san.”

 

Well. “It’s complicated,” he said finally.

 

Neji wasn’t letting it go. “Yūtaro-san said sometimes you miss okaasama and want to be with her.”

 

Not for the first time, Hizashi reconsidered his policy to let Ryōko’s family have as much contact with Neji as they wanted. Yūtaro never had really learned the benefits of discretion. Nor did he seem to understand the concept of _need to know_.

 

“Do you want to be with okaasama more than me?” Neji asked.

 

“No,” he said immediately.

 

Neji twisted in his arms. “Sometimes I dream you sleep and never ever wake up,” Neji said. “And then you don’t wake up for real and it’s scary.”

 

Hizashi just cuddled Neji closer. “I’m sorry, Neji-chan,” he said. Sorry he was not the father Neji deserved – not the one he needed. Sorry he was the one here and Ryōko wasn’t. Sorry he couldn’t seem to control himself these days and it was Neji who suffered. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay tōsan,” Neji said, voice a whisper. “I love you.”

 

Hizashi pressed a series of kisses to the top of his head. “Bed, now, Neji-chan,” he said. Neji tensed in his arms. “You can stay here tonight,” he said, just to feel Neji go limp again. Hizashi listened to his breath slowly even out, and marvelled at how quickly Neji could fall asleep. Eventually, he started to follow and he shifted just enough to avoid a twinge in his back in the morning.

 

Maybe things would be a little easier then.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> tbh Hizashi getting laid was the biggest surprise to me??? IDK man it just happened.
> 
> Anyway, this takes place about 3-4 months before "to monstrous Nothing" and if Hizashi's depression seems off to you all I can say is I modeled it after my own so *shrug*


End file.
